Kindred Spirits
by BlueGryphon
Summary: When Kerowyn is Chosen, she returns to Haven as a Trainee. During that time, she obviously becomes a Weaponsmaster as shown in later books. How did that happen, and how did her first meeting with Alberich go. One-shot.


**Kindred Spirits  
**_by BlueGryphon_

_Disclaimer: _All characters described or used during this story unfortunately belong to Mercedes Lackey, not to me. Likewise all settings are not mine. If they were mine, do you think I'd be posting for free?

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"So, this is the Herald's Collegium," Dirk told her, gesturing towards the large building in front of him. "That's where the dormitories, common room, kitchens and classrooms are and where most of the Trainees live."

"Most?"

"Some of them with particularly strong Gifts that they're having problems controlling either move in with their teacher or they both move somewhere outside of Haven in case of any accidents."

Kero thought about some of the magical accidents she'd seen. Mind magic or true magic, she could see that it could be dangerous to have a powerful, untrained Gift in a heavily populated area.

"The next building over is the Herald's wing. Every full Herald has rooms there, and its where Herald's assigned to the palace live. Mostly we eat either with the court of the Collegium, so there aren't any eating facilities, just endless rooms, and naturally Talia chose the ones with the most stairs attached."

"How long does it normally take to become a Herald, then?" Kerowyn asked, wondering how much time that she was going to waste playing at being a teenager again.

"Well, it depends a lot on how much you know when you arrive, and a little on your age, of course. Most Chosen are around 13 when they come in and qualify in about five years. There are rare cases when children under ten come in, and they take longer -we couldn't send thirteen year olds out doing adults work. Besides, the younger ones tend to learn slower anyway. A fair number can't even read or write, so they have to learn that first. If you don't mind me asking, how ah educated are you?"

Poor Dirk, no one would ever describe him as tactful. He obviously had difficulties assessing how much a 'common mercenary' could have learnt. Still, he'd need to know.

"I won't have that problem. I was born Rethwellan and can speak and write it fluently, then adopted into my cousins' clan."

"Clan?"

"Clan Talesedrin, I'm Shin'a'in and speak their language. They don't have a written form. I've also been taught Valdemaran fluently and I can write it down. My spoken Karsite is enough to communicate the basics, but not sufficient to pass as a native, not that I look it anyway. My mathematics is decent and my history covers Rethwellan history and international conflicts that my Weaponsmaster thought it would be beneficial for me to study. I can track, live off the land and make or repair armor if necessary. My main weapon is the sword, but I have also received extensive training in many other weapons, my range weapon of choice being a Shin'a'in bow. I have the Gift of mindspeech, and I suspect I am as well trained in that as any full Herald, certainly Eldan seemed unconcerned. I was taught it by a _kyree _who claimed I was broadcasting and disturbing him. I'm noble born, so I was taught how to behave in a formal situation, and if the Valdemaran system is different, it shouldn't be hard to pick up." She smiled at him, watching his emotions flash across his open face. "Is that enough?"

"Given that, I'd say you should get through basic training in a year, followed of course by a year and a half of internship riding. Most of what you'll need to pick up is Valdemaran geography, history and law, and what work a Herald does. Unless . . . well, its an idea I'll need to have confirmed. I'll take you over to the salle now. Even if you're not taking classes there, you'll still want to train, I'd imagine."

Kero had been given a dark grey outfit to wear, identical to a Herald's Whites in all but colour. Dirk had explained that, while the younger trainees wore light grey in materials that were cheaper and hardwearing, any adults were usually given permanent uniforms that, like Whites, were tailored to them. Since they often followed a different kind of schedule from the youngsters, it made them easier to identify as being older and more experienced should the need arise. In Greys, they were also more likely to be mistaken in an emergency for a full Herald.

"Have you met our Weaponsmaster yet?" Dirk asked. By the overly casual way he was asking it, Kero doubted he was making idle conversation. "Weaponsmaster-Herald Alberich?"

"I don't think so," she replied cautiously. It was possible that she had, all the white-clad figures tended to blend into each other in her mind. He chuckled.

"Trust me, you'd have remembered if you had. He used to be a Captain in the Karsite army before he was accused of witchcraft. The story goes that Kantor, his Companion, decimated his former command, broke into the burning building he'd been shut in to die, and galloped off."

"Dramatic."

"He and the Companions involved have never denied it, but then they haven't confirmed it either. There is, of course, the rumor that he's too strict to be entirely human, but I can tell you for certain that that one is entirely false."

"All children believe that of a Weaponsmaster," Kero said understandingly. "If they don't, it shows they're too soft."

Dirk led her into the salle, a large hall with huge mirrors all around the walls. Kero tried hard not to think of the cost - undoubtedly a gigantic sum - but it was undeniably an excellent idea for students to be able to see their own mistakes. A group of eight youths- trainees, presumably, but wearing different colours of uniform - were sparring with wouldn't swords, spaced out along the length of the salle. A tall, dark man in dark grey leathers was standing at the far end, calling out numbers that presumably gave them the various strikes they were meant to be using.

Maybe ten or fifteen years older than her, he wore his hair cropped close to his head in a decidedly non-Valdemaran style. His face was heavily scarred by both weapons and fire and, though he gave no sign, Kero was sure his keen black eyes had noted them as soon as they stepped in. He was, after all, an excellent Weaponsmaster, judging by the standard of soldier he turned out.

After a few moments, he called a half to his students' work. The trainees stopped immediately, stepping away from each other and beginning stretches to ensure their muscles wouldn't stiffen up. Herald Alberich walked through them, occasionally extending a stretch, to approach the pair waiting by the door.

"Dirk," he said, shaking the man's hand and sounding genuinely pleased, although Kero hadn't seen anything Dirk's movements to suggest he was a particularly gifted student of weapons. "Who is this you bring to me?"

"This is Kerowyn, Chosen of Sayvil. Since she's already very experienced, I thought you might like to assess her skill yourself."

Alberich's face assumed the slightly vacant look that Kero was coming to associate with Mindspeaking a Companion, then he gave her a small smile.

"You are already trained, no?" he asked.

"I'm a merc Captain," she replied, assuming that that was answer enough without going into details.

"Guild?"

Kero nodded and he seemed satisfied by the answer. That in itself was curious, given that Valdemar hadn't ever hired mercenaries before the Skybolts. She wasn't sure that the Karsites had much contact with the Guild either.

"Very well. Dirk, you have time now?"

"Certainly - Talia's at a Council Meeting and I've been asked to show

Kerowyn around."

"We will test now then. Simple sword and shield first."

Kero scanned the padded practice armor and wooden swords and shields hanging on the wall and selected ones that would be a decent fit to her style. She had to try a few swords before she came to one that same size and balance as Need. She stepped into the center, noting that the trainees, their session finished, had now left, and faced Dirk. Her opponent was similarly attired. By his stance and easy grip on his sword, she guessed that his 'country bumpkin' appearance was misleading and he was probably at least as dangerous as any of her mercs. On Alberich's signal, they began and Kero's instinct and guess were quickly proved correct. Dirk was fast and his footwork neat.

When that bout ended, Alberich gave them two handed broadswords, then rapiers. After that third bout, Dirk sounded out of breath though Kero was still going strong.

"Is Skif at the Palace?" Alberich asked.

"I think so," Dirk replied, thinking. "Yes, he's riding messenger and playing bodyguard."

"Would you send him and Jeri here immediately please."

"Certainly. Will you need me back here?"

"Give us an hour, we should be almost finished in that time."

Dirk grinned cheerfully at Kero and left. Now that the class had gone, they were alone in the salle.

"Your trainer good was," Alberich said, his accent strong and his syntax not quite right. Given how long he had lived in Valdemar, her personal opinion was that most of it was deliberate to encourage people to underestimate him. "His name?"

"My grandmother's oath sister," Kero specified, just in case he held to the Rethwellan nobility's opinion of woman fighters. "Tarma shena Talesedrin, a Shin'a'in Kal'enedral."

He seemed to absorb that, whether he knew what the title meant, Kero was unable to tell.

"I heard of you have. From where?"

Kero thought for a moment. Was he checking her modesty, his facts, rumours. . .

"I got a Herald called Eldan out of Karse about ten years ago," she ventured. "He'd got into some trouble with a priestess. Then, some people from the Guard came to the Talesedrin horse fair at Bolthaven not so long ago too. Also, Tarma and my grandmother were fairly well-known in their day, I think they were friends with King Roald - I'm not sure how much of their family is known."

When he'd digested this, he continued.

"The Rethwellan Prince who was Chosen, you know him?"

"Daren? Yes, we were trained together. He's a good man."

That was tricky - Daren's older brother, Princess Elspeth's father, had been killed in a plot to take over Valdemar. Kero would not be surprised if it had been this man who had been instrumental in his death. Certainly he was capable of it.

There was a moment of silence that neither of them felt the need to fill. Kero felt she understood this man who, like her and unlike most Heralds, was not native to Valdemar and had also been Chosen as an adult. He was also, undeniably, a career soldier like her, like Tarma and like a number of her company.

Kero started slightly when she heard a soft footstep behind her. She turned to see a tall, slender young man who she judged to be approximately Talia's age. He moved like a cat - or like an extremely good thief - and his face still had the slightly pinched look of someone who hadn't had enough to eat in early childhood, though it wasn't immediately noticeable. He appeared to be carrying no weapons but, if she was right and he was a former thief, he'd undoubtedly have a number concealed about his person.

"This, Skif is," Alberich introduced. "Skif, this the Chosen of Sayvil, Kerowyn is. When Jeri arrives, you will fight close combat - that, unarmed or with knives. You have training in this had, yes?"

Kero nodded, mentally going through the locations of her own knives. While she waited, she removed the armor she had been wearing and hung that and the practice weapons back where they had come from. In this particular situation, armor would be more of a hindrance than a help.

A moment after that bout ended - Kero having been narrowly defeated - a woman stepped into the salle. She was blond, tall and wiry like tempered steel.

"Jeri," Alberich said. "This is Kerowyn. In a short moment, we fight with live steel so the Trainees outside must be."

Jeri looked her over carefully, looking for something but Kero couldn't quite identify what. Then she delicately raised an eyebrow at Alberich, everything about her screaming nobility to Kero.

"If would be good to have more help," she commented blandly. Kerowyn's eyes narrowed slightly and Jeri winked at her as she went out again and Skif shut and barred the doors behind her. Obviously, this wasn't a normal assessment, so they must be considering her for something else, presumably taking her on as a Weaponsmaster's Second, as Jeri herself obviously was. That was interesting, that they would trust her so quickly.

"You have a sword?" Alberich asked. Kero drew Need - she'd propped her against the wall while she was fighting the other bouts. He nodded and selected a sword from the racks on the wall, presumably for himself. That was a little surprising given his age. . . Kero quickly stifled that thought: he was obviously skilled, was no older than Tarma had been when she trained her and was, even more importantly, still fresh. Skif had taken up a stance as far away from them as possible.

Suddenly, there was a rap on the door. Alberich gestured curtly for Skif to see what was up. Dirk looked in.

"Sorry Alberich, the hour was up and her mercenaries were looking for her. Do you mind if we step in to wait?" He took silence as an affirmative answer and came to stand by Skif, followed by Shallan and Geyr. Kero groaned inwardly.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, never taking her eyes off her opponent. That was a beginner's mistake, one she hadn't made in long time.

"To start with, we didn't want you wandering around and getting into trouble without us to protect you," Shallan said with a completely straight face; Geyr let out a snort of laughter. "And if you're getting whopped, we don't want to miss out on seeing it."

Silently, Kero made the field signal for 'quiet' and raised her sword. Alberich lunged and they were off. He was good, very good, but then so was she, with years of combat experience at her back. She was sweating heavily by this point but it wasn't uncommon for a battle to last longer than this and in the field she would still have called herself fresh.

When it became clear that they were more or less evenly matched, Kero made the decision to stop using the clean-cut fighting style they'd been using and began using the mercenary tricks she'd quickly picked up. While the first one seemed to take him a little by surprise, he met the others with the ease of a combat veteran. In desperation, Kero slipped into a pattern of strokes that her Shin'a'in cousins had taught her. As she had expected, not having encountered this particular trick before, he met her strokes in the predicted way, leaving him open for her sword to snake up to touch his throat.

"Good," he said, not appearing at all put out by his defeat. "Very good. Now we try range weapons outside. Have you a preference?"

"Generally the Skybolts use Shin'a'in bows and heavy horse-crossbows and I am competent with both," Kero said, admiring the way he'd only moved on to the distance weapons when she was tired and her aim might be off. "On the whole, I prefer the Shin'a'in bow."

"Dirk, you can unlock the door again. Longbow? Spear? Javelin? Axe? Sling? Knife?"

He noted her affirmative to each of these. Kero had trained herself in those Tarma hadn't after joining the Skybolts and realizing that if she lost her sword in a fight, there might not be one around to pick up.

Jeri was outside taking a group of Trainees in archery. At about thirteen to fifteen years old, they were quite obviously beginners and kept sneaking glances at her as she went through every range weapon kept in the salle. With her preferred weapons - crossbow, sling and knife - she hit the centre of the target practically every time; with the others she still hit the target, though not quite as accurately. She placed a last arrow and turned to face Alberich.

"Right Trainee," he said sternly. "What is the job of a Weaponsmaster?"

Kero thought for a moment.

"To give each pupil the skills they will need to prevent them from being killed or injured. Teach a foot soldier formation fighting with a short sword, but also give him alternate weapons and the skills that he isn't lost without someone on either side of him. It's not to be soft but to use whatever methods work to make a lesson stick. A lesson backed up with pain isn't pleasant but it works and there's no softness in the real world."

Alberich's face broke into a wide smile and the young Trainees unconsciously took a step backwards. Usually, a grin like that meant a particularly nasty experience. Given the training methods Kero tended to use on her recruits, maybe they were right.

"Well done Dirk," he said. "But you can tell Talia that next time she has an idea, she can come and see me myself. If you wish to take on the job, Kerowyn, I would be glad to take you on as a Weaponsmaster's Second, along with Jeri," he said, leading her back into the salle, away from the listening Trainees. "You would still have classes but only at the most three in a day. Here, we teach all of the Herald Trainees and some of the Bardic and Healer Trainees. There are also a few highborns, though not many, and most of the full Heralds at the Palace and the Palace guard come here to spar. Do you accept this responsibility?"

"Yes sir," Kero replied instantly. It wasn't that the thought of acting as a normal Herald didn't suit her, more that it was logical extension of the things she had already done and a good use of her abilities. "I am still Captain of the Skybolts, though."

"Most day to day work is handled by Lieutenants, no? Let them do their jobs and we will set aside time in your schedule to work with them. Is that sufficient?"

Kero mentally ran through her usual duties in her head: no contract negotiation since they had permanent employment, she had a man to handle her paperwork, tactics were only necessary in the field, Shallan could handle recruits if she was too busy. . .

"It should be, unless we are sent into the field."

"If the Skybolts are deployed in full, it is likely that a number of Heralds, including yourself, would accompany them. Have you been given quarters yet? No? There is a room here you can take - Jeri prefers to sleep in the Heralds' Wing. Tell me, do your soldiers have experience in fighting magic?"

"Naturally, it's a normal part of warfare in Rethwellan. Our company mages were unable to cross the Valdemaran border, so they returned to Bolthaven."

"Excellent. At present we have a certain amount of protection from magic - as you experienced - and it has defended Valdemar against Karsite Priest-Mages for many years, but if it should fail, we must have a strike force ready. We can make any arrangements necessary with the Lord Marshal tomorrow. Meanwhile, I suggest you let Dirk show you around. I think you'll do just fine with the older Trainees in particular, Jeri can handle most of the little ones on her own."

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A/N: So, did you like it? This was a one-shot, but if I get a positive response, I might write further fics in the Valdemar universe.


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